What’s New Pussycat(16)

He could argue this all night, but he’d hit a raw spot, and he wasn’t into rubbing salt into her very clearly open wounds.

Instead, he squeezed her shoulder again and said, “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Martine. But just as an FYI, here in Cedar Glen, we specialize in just being who you are. For the most part, we’re loud and proud here, unless humans are driving through, and that’s mostly only in the summer months. I hope while you’re here, you’ll get out and experience some of it.”

When Martine nodded, her chin brushed his hand. It was just a quick collision of skin, but it was enough to make him let his fingers fall away.

Because he felt her vulnerability—her loneliness—and he didn’t want to.

Because for some crazy reason, that simple touch of skin on skin made him want to fill in all those gaps, make up for whatever she was lacking.

And that was damn crazy.





Chapter Six

Martine’s long, supple body slithered over his, sending a wave of heat across Derrick’s flesh. Naked, she crept upward along his body, sliding, rubbing leaving her silky imprint on him, leaving her scent of raspberries and cinnamon in his nose.

He knew he should be surprised she was in his bedroom, surprised she was anywhere near him after their dinner conversation. Yet, she felt familiar and unfamiliar all at once. As though she were a favorite pair of jeans he’d forgotten he had and was slipping back into for the first time in years. She felt new, but comfortable, taking all the surprise out of it.

As her soft hands roamed along his pecs, his brain knew he should speak up to keep her from doing something she’d possibly regret. But his limbs? They were erring on the side of “Shut up, Derrick. Extremely attractive woman in your bed. Go with it, brother.”

Still, the stand-up guy in him wanted to give her the chance to opt out of whatever this was when she drew her long fingers along the crease where his hip met his thigh. But his body wouldn’t listen to his brain—didn’t want to listen to his brain.

And neither did his cock, burning hot and painfully erect. Everyone but caution and common sense wanted to come out and play tonight.

As Martine’s legs straddled his chest, the gentle swell of her hip by the light of the quarter moon caught his eye. It was soft and plump, creamy and smooth, and he wanted to dig his fingers into her supple flesh, touch her silky skin everywhere.

And then the half of his brain still capable of exercising caution mocked him. Oh, Derrick. You don’t even know her. Shame on you. She’s kindly offered to save you from death, and you’re not even considering engaging her in a conversation about her reasons for showing up in your bedroom completely naked? Maybe ask her what bought this on when earlier tonight she would have sooner had sex with a wart-covered Cyclops than even be in the same room with you?

That’s harsh and totally untrue. She never once said I was unattractive.

But he quit arguing with his brain when Martine pressed her body to his, sinking into him. Thigh to thigh, chest to chest. And it was damn good. Damn good. Too good.

Derrick…

Look here, Brain. Shut. Up.

There was a mingle of moans, an echo of sighs before Derrick finally stirred beneath her, the lower half of his body arching upward as she settled on his abdomen, leaning over him, letting her long, black hair caress his chest.

He groaned when her tongue snaked out, stroking the line of his lips with a heated swipe. She lingered on the surface, lightly licking, tasting, exploring, until he forgot all the warning signs that this was a bad idea and captured her mouth in a deep kiss.

When their tongues touched for the first time, he moaned, his chest vibrating with deep satisfaction, her breasts, full and round, pushing against him in response. Martine’s mouth on his was soft, plump, and he wanted to devour it.

She sank deeper into him, pressing every available inch of her skin against his, making his cock tighten even more painfully, ache with need.

Derrick’s hands instantly went to her hair, his fingers thrusting into it, pulling her closer.He was learning about this woman who didn’t want any personal involvement through this amazing kiss, learning what she liked, learning what made her nipples tighten and her toes dig into the bed.

And then he took her mouth deeper, fully, inhaling the flavor of her taste, stroking the texture of her tongue until her fists pressed into either side of his head.

She returned the kiss by pressing her lips to his with a whimper, matching his tongue’s forceful strokes.

He slipped deeper still into the cavern of her mouth, tasting, exploring, needing this with a burn in his gut and a tight pull of his shaft.

With suddenness and a light moan, Martine pulled away, lifting herself slightly and gazing down at him, her green eyes on fire, her breasts brushing his lips before she settled in.